[M'try] They fell down the crack.
RL Date: 7/18/10
IC Date: 3/28/23 --Look! Another log I didn't steal! Haters.
Crack, Fort Weyr
Clearing away enough mud reveals a dank, dark crack in the bowl wall that a person could just squeeze into if he or she dares. The brave are rewarded by finding a dusty and slightly crumbled flight of stairs that leads downward into deeper darkness.
At the bottom of the stairs, with plenty of glowlight or torches a spacious cavern opens up, glittering with minerals in the walls. Shelving is carved along one whole wall and some benches. The sound of running water can be heard through a carved and linteled opening on the far side of the cavern. Were these once bathing caverns that were buried?
Vanissa lands partway down the stairs in a small pile of dirt and mud with a soft whuff as her breath is knocked out. As she hears more dirt showering down from above, she does a quick duck and cover, huddling against what feels like a wall. Calling a belated, "Watch out!" To M'try up there, she can only hope he doesn't land on her and squish her or break his neck when he lands.
"It's a little late--" Where the words tend to be punctuated by 'ow' and 'oof' all the way down. "--for watch out." The stairways crumbling under his fall, he doesn't quite halt his tumbling momentum in time, and M'try does pretty well run the risk of smacking hard into the greenrider huddled at the bottom of those once-steps. Not the most tactful thing he's ever said, but at least it's honest; "Fuck." Hastily, "Nissa-- are you okay?"
"Well, sor-ry!" is Nissa's uncharacteristic snapped reply while he's falling. There's a tremor of something in her words, whether delayed reaction or anger or something else altogether, she's braced for impact and when he does hit her, it is indeed hard, since she can't see where to leap to. From underneath him there's a quiet groan, "I was." She lifts her head, one arm lifts and sweeps her hair off of her face and in the bit of light coming from above, it's clear they're both a mess. "How is it I keep ending up on the floor in the mud with you?" Then belatedly, "Are you okay?"
M'try tacks on to her question a very wry, "With all your clothes on." That's very likely the bit that keeps sticking out in his mind. Scuffed and bruised, there's a brief hiss when he adjusts so his weight rests on his palm-- apparently scraped on the way down-- but he mans up and rests on it anyway, the other one moving the hair back from her forehead carefully. "I've been better. Granted." He shifts a little, making a point of the whole 'pretty much on top of Vanissa' factor. "I've also been worse. Nothing's broken?"
There's a sort of gasped, "Touch!" from Nissa at that, his weight, after all, makes breathing difficult, It's a little bit better when he puts his palm to the floor. "Good. Other than crushed, I'm fine." At that shifting she gives him a push, her tone a little cool, her words slipping out before she can stop them, "Better when wearin' a crown, maybe?" She grimaces, tilts her head back to give the room a look, slightly upside down at that, "Nevermind. Where are we?"
"Sorry," M'try answers quickly, prying himself up. Thankfully, it's dark enough that Vanissa's not going to get the full array of owie expressions that cross his face during this process, finally with him scooting to sit, carefully finding the wall behind him with his uninjured palm. "Ah," when the crown comes up, and there'd be enlightenment showing if there was enough light. "I never did wear a crown, if it matters. --Someplace dark." To answer the 'where.' "Here," while he pushes up to his feet, sliding up the wall, looking for her hand with his.
Yay for not seeing his agony? Though if he were ever -seriously- hurt? One wonders if his face could survive it. And yay he can't see Nissa's face as she rebelliously mutters, "Forget it. None a my business anyway." She's wincing when he moves off of her. "Ha ha. Dark, funny." She's levering up on her elbows at his 'here' can dimly see his hand reaches for it reluctantly, avoiding looking at him as she gets to her feet, offers him a stiff, "Thanks."
"Yes." Funny. "Clever is my schtick, remember?" M'try doesn't move to keep Vanissa's hand once she's on her feet, where he normally might, though whether that's owing to her coldness or his scraped palm... "Nissa." Stilted. "Nenita doesn't want anything to do with me, I promise you, and she never has." He takes a ginger, careful, tentative step and hazards, "I think there are stairs to get out of here. Are you hurt anywhere?"
Taking a step away after regaining her feet, Nissa dry retort is, "How can I forget? We ain't had much other type of conversation." She's a step away from him, heading along the wall but away from the stairs and into the room, peering to see a bit more when he speaks. She turns back while running a hand distractedly through her hair, grimaces at the dirt she can feel on her fingertips. After a brief silence, "That obvious am I? I..." Embarrassment tinges her admission, "I ain't ever felt this way. Kinda..." She takes a wild guess, "jealous? I'm sorry." Yay he can't see her beet-red face! "Ain't hurt. But... shouldn't we look around a bit?"
"Unless you're seeing more than I am...?" M'try trails off, his feet on those stairs slowing, slowing, stopping with a breath that need not be seen to know it's a deep one. He turns back at that point, moving back down the step he just mounted to try and find the greenrider with his arms, to try to draw her to him at that point with a quiet, "You have no reason to be jealous, Nissa. Nenita and I would sooner smother each other with pillows than tangle in the sheets. But I'm flattered, if it's not terrible of me to admit it."
He was leaving without her? It's only when he speaks from up those stairs Nissa realizes he's gone up there and she's feeling her way back along the wall with a panicked, "Waaaaaiiit!" that echoes off the back recesses off the black vault behind them. His progress back down is met by a mad scramble up, but remember - she spent five weeks alone in a dark hole. She flails a bit, finds him or is found by him. Either way, she's easily drawn into his arms and clings. So who needs mojo? He can work with terror, right? He'll feel her heart pounding - it'll slow after a few moments. Meekly, "Okay, I, um. Thanks for telling me and no. No it ain't terrible." She's all chattery, probably leftover adrenalin, laughs a little, "I blame those pink letters."
By contrast, almost as usual, M'try remains calm. But, then, he didn't spend five weeks alone in the dark. "Relax," he answers to her jitters, holding her close until he's quite sure that Vanissa's heart has, in fact, regained a normal thump and not a rabbity patter. "I blame them fairly often myself, though probably for entirely different reasons. More specifically, I blame myself for forgetting they were there before I invited you to stay. Generally, I tend to think things through a little more conscientiously. Alas." The sound of his shrug is obvious even if it's a shallow thing and hard to see. This time, he will keep her hand before starting up again, fingers loosely twined. "I have this almost overpowering belief that, if I stop being clever, you're going to realize..." To answer her dry remark from before, albeit belatedly.
Vanissa calms, although it's a slow thing while her head is burrowed under his chin. His calm helps her quite a bit. "I'm glad you forgot." There's a smile in the words, "I- I thought is was awfully sweet. Don't feel badly?" As they start up, her fingers curl between his. A few steps along, she sways to bump her shoulder against his, "You're too careful, M'try. You need to learn to live in the moment more." His words nearly have her stumbling on the next step. She stops, tugs gently on his hand, asking quietly, "I'll realize what, M'try?"
"Yes? And fall into dark crevices and tumble down steps and land on top of beautiful women?" There's a pause, a moment where he cocks his head in a 'humn, perhaps not such a bad idea after all' way, and then M'try is ready to keep moving before he lets that pull on his hand do its job. Halfway up the tumbled, broken stairs, rather tattered himself, just starting to get enough light from the crack to see by-- "That you're going to come to your senses? That you're going to realize-- Nissa, you are so sweet, and lovely, and beautiful. I just keep feeling like I'm waiting for the axe to fall."
Vanissa laughs, "Well, as long as you don't kill them in the process?" She waits until he pauses and turns, taking the final few steps so she can be at eye level with him, tilts her head considering this with a confused knit to her brows. "What are ya sayin exactly, M'try? What?" Trying not to be offended, attempting to remain calm is a struggle, "That I'm too 'pretty' for the likes of you? Is that it?" She turns and almost starts up the stairs without him, but can't quite make herself let go of his hand. with her head turned away, "I'll realize what M'try?"
M'try takes a breath, organizing his thoughts, exactly what she accused him of being: too careful. Her response to what he was /trying/ to say does not go unnoticed, and it's for that reason that he's trying to explain himself more succinctly. "That you're not /in/ to me, Nissa. Look, I know that I'm sweet, and damn skippy I'm clever. I'm okay with that, and I meant what I said-- if there's never anything between us but friendship, I can be content with that. But I am so. Fucking. In. To. You." The guy's got a stack of books as tall as he is, and the best way he can think to put it is 'in to?' Yeah, he's so in over his head.
"M'try." Nissa's bewildered, flounders. Finally, "I ain't good with words. I told ya. I don't know how to..." a general handwave indicates the airspace between them. "I... sometimes I'm afraid to let you know me. /I/ don't know if I know me," she admits. "I never let any guy in before. It's scary." She reaches light fingers to touch his cheek, "I dunno what it is about ya, but ya draw me. I'm tryin' to face my fears." So it isn't her saying she's /in/ to him, but it's the best she can do right now. "I want-" Voices from above interrupt her and she peers up with a sigh, looks back to him. "Don't let fear make you a prisoner, hmm?"
"Draw," M'try repeats with a short laugh, the voices from above leading right into the way he bites his fingernails into his forehead before they sweep up and back, dragging through tangled, muddy hair (get a haircut, M'try, really). "I want-- to kill your brother. Alas, he's a lot bigger than I am. So." --It's after the shout that he draws on her hand, leading to the top of the steps.
M'try and Vanissa must be alive down there, 'cause M'try's voice comes out pretty clearly from the echoey space. "We're coming up, sir! In one piece, even."
You head up the stairs to the bowl
Mudslide, Fort Weyr(#1842RJs$)
The rain has done much to wash away the vast amount of mud that slid into the Bowl and down the mountainside, but in places, what used to be a wall of earth, is still knee-deep muck that needs shoveling. Where once dirt nestled, hard-packed along the rocky arms of the Weyr's curve, there's now a gaping open space that leads to a sharp, slick drop off that slopes away into the mountain range that holds the Weyr. A long swathe of mud continues to ooze its way downward as more of the stuff gets washed out of the Bowl by continuing rain.
Odd depressions in the mud speak of uneven surfaces beneath the mucky coating and along the northern side of the mudslide, the strange sight of a set of 'stairs' seemingly leading to nowhere rises up from the flotsam. On the southern side of the bowl wall, half an alcove hangs out high above, presumably the leftovers of a weyr that was drowned in the first mudslide and additional cracks in the wall hint at more to be found below the mud line.
"How many people are out here? You can't keep track of them all," Kaida says reasonably. She toes absently at a bit of stubborn mud caked onto the side of the huge rock, glancing over towards foreign Weyrwoman and friend both. "Well, there's still no screaming. Unless you think /she's/ going to start?" Pale eyes on Nenita for that question. "I don't think two more people disappearing will cause a fuss. Have you been to the Glass Fountain here before? They haven't got quite the range as your Sandbar, but they mix a good drink. Decent ales too." That would be a 'yes,' bad timing or not.
Notably, T'rev does not look pissed at anyone, just vaguely concerned as he walks the wall slowly calling out again. "Hear anything?" he asks Nenita as he crosses back her way and stands there looking at the crack in the wall with his head cocked to the side now too. "Think that's big enough for a person to go tumblin' through?"
If she's not annoyed about Ch'son losing Fort's ex-Weyrleader's sister and her sort-of-friend down a muddy hole when he wasn't paying attention to anything other than pissing off B'kaiv and talking to Kaida, then she'll be mad about the skipping out on work to drink. But right now she doesn't seem too focused on what's going on over there, her back turned, attention elsewhere. So he'll probably be able to escape while she's not looking. When M'try's voice comes up through the hole, she nods her head and lets out a sigh. "Over this way." She waves him over, "And I don't know. But I'm not squeezing my ass through there."
"T'rev?" It's Nissa's voice calling after M'try calls out. As they near the top of the stairs, crunching and tumbling sounds of small rocks can be head. "Might need a hand up - the ground sorta collapsed under us."
"Oh good, as I don't think we particularly /need/ your ass down here, Weyrwoman. Unless you intend to use it to lower a rope or a step-ladder? Which would be clever, admittedly, but just a hand might also help." M'try, having fallen down a hole, now banged and scraped, still has to get in his digs at the damned Istan where he can. "I can boost Vanissa up if someone can help from the top, please?" he adds, glancing to the greenrider with a questioning lift of his brow; works for her?
"Aye, I have been t' the Glass Fountain before. Back long," though maybe not /that/ long since he's only been a dragonrider for a few turns, "before I was Weyrleader. Remember it fondly, though, and I thnk it sounds great." Not like Ch'son makes a lot of time to hang out at Fort, after all. He's got to pounce these chances when they come up. He does take his shovel with him and before they head too far, drops it off with Taineth for safe-keeping.
Kaida leaves her shovel where it is, standing skinny sentinel by that rock, pulling her gloves off and tucking them into her belt as she accompanies Ch'son away from the work site.
Vanissa coughs back a laugh at M'try's phrasing and nods, eyes dancing. "Hand mine up instead why don't you then?" And she'll wait to see just how he plans to do that, arching her back, which causes her to wince ( Ow, sore!) when she peers up at the opening with one hand held to keep falling debris from getting in her eyes.
T'rev catches the sound of voices and moves over to provide the requested assistance. "Sure, can do," T'rev calls back to the pair and grins over at Nenita. "I don't think your ass would have problems fitting, but I'd rather have the view out here," he quips, then leans against the wall one-shouldered, peering down below and reaches in to offer that hand up from the outside.
"How about my ass stays out here then. We get Vanissa safely on the surface and then I seal up this rock and leave you down there?" Nenita calls down to M'try, sounding cheerful. She casts an amused smirk in T'rev's direction before she leans closer to the crack. "I swear, I'll send food down every once in awhile. If I can remember." With her free hand, she braces herself against the wall and then shoves the glows in above T'rev, aiding in the illumination.
M'try is really not going to be awesome at lifting Vanissa out anyway, but doing it with the peanut gallery up there 'helping' him? "You'd-- oof-- miss me, Nenita, admit it," he answers back toward the outside world, getting way more groping in at this exact moment than he has in, uh, a long time. Alas, it's just to get the greenrider clear and then start reaching up in turn, ready for a little help for himself in turn.
"On second thought, I'll stay here with you," Nissa grins to M'try upon hearing Nenita, ducking as a shower of dirt rains in from above. "We'd have plenty of time and you could teach me how to draw. Or something." Yeah, M'try, she's in no position to protest or enjoy where your hands happen to be. Alas for her as well. Emerging from the pit, it's clear she's been banged around. Bruised, dirt-smudged, but hey! Still cheerful. "Hi guys! You would not believe what we found down there. Um, cos we never got around to looking at it." Grin.
"C'mon up Niss," T'rev encourages, hauling his sister up. "Yeah? Ha. Well we can get ropes and stuff and lights and check it out proper another day. Like maybe tomorrow," the wingleader says with a laugh and leans back into the 'chasm' to help M'try. "Thanks Nenita," he tells Ista's Weyrwoman as well as she sticks the glows in over his head.
"Miss you?" Nenita asks aloud, like she really has to think about it. "I don't know. Why, I could come visit you here whenever I wanted!" Once Vanissa is coming up through the hole, she leans away so that the greenrider has a clear path through. Without another full body in the way there should be more light. She places the glows carefully on the ground and leans her hand in to snag M'try around the wrist. "Though it might be nice to see your face when you're insulting me, that I'll admit to." Unless of course T'rev is doing that too and there's no room. In which case her arm comes back and she shoots Vanissa a smile, "Yeah, seems real dark. And ah, if you'll all excuse me? It's about time I checked on Safriath. Try not to fall in anymore holes." Cool as a cucumber, a muddy cucumber, she trots back off across the bowl to the mud hauling dragons.
M'try, seriously, while he's getting helped on up to his feet; "You have the most amazing sense of timing, sir. Just. Unbelievable." The comment may have to exist apropos of nothing for a while, since he's dusting himself off now, finding scrapes and bruises pretty much all over his hands and arms in the process. "I think I'm going to see if Isandre is feeling like torturing me for a while, will you excuse me?" There's a glance back to the greenrider to invite her along for the ride, if she's feeling similarly banged and beaten.
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith projects, << COME BACK SOME TIME!!! >>
And when Nissa accepts the hand up, she barely manages to bite back a groan and a wince. "He landed on top of me and we went from there." She tells both T'rev and Nenita with a smirk, lifts a hand to give the departing weyrwoman a salute. She'll just leave them to draw their own conclusions on /that/. "I need a bath and numbweed and at this point, I'd accept some fellis if Isandre would push some of that off on me." She'll wait for M'try to emerge though, before setting off because from the looks of her, she could use a shoulder to lean on getting there.
"Did he now?" T'rev inquires of his sister rather chipperly and looks between green and brownrider with the cutest little 'aha' grin. "I've got a chest o' papers and some shovels to tidy up, but I'll be along in a bit t'make sure y'all are ... still comin' together just fine," he says /totally/ deadpan. A wave is sent off after Nenita and it's Mecaith who passes along more formal thanks as T'rev goes about his self-appointed tasks then heads across the bowl with the old box full of papers to leave to the tender mercies of the archivist harper in records with an update passed along draconically to the Weyrleaders.
IC Date: 3/28/23 --Look! Another log I didn't steal! Haters.
Crack, Fort Weyr
Clearing away enough mud reveals a dank, dark crack in the bowl wall that a person could just squeeze into if he or she dares. The brave are rewarded by finding a dusty and slightly crumbled flight of stairs that leads downward into deeper darkness.
At the bottom of the stairs, with plenty of glowlight or torches a spacious cavern opens up, glittering with minerals in the walls. Shelving is carved along one whole wall and some benches. The sound of running water can be heard through a carved and linteled opening on the far side of the cavern. Were these once bathing caverns that were buried?
Vanissa lands partway down the stairs in a small pile of dirt and mud with a soft whuff as her breath is knocked out. As she hears more dirt showering down from above, she does a quick duck and cover, huddling against what feels like a wall. Calling a belated, "Watch out!" To M'try up there, she can only hope he doesn't land on her and squish her or break his neck when he lands.
"It's a little late--" Where the words tend to be punctuated by 'ow' and 'oof' all the way down. "--for watch out." The stairways crumbling under his fall, he doesn't quite halt his tumbling momentum in time, and M'try does pretty well run the risk of smacking hard into the greenrider huddled at the bottom of those once-steps. Not the most tactful thing he's ever said, but at least it's honest; "Fuck." Hastily, "Nissa-- are you okay?"
"Well, sor-ry!" is Nissa's uncharacteristic snapped reply while he's falling. There's a tremor of something in her words, whether delayed reaction or anger or something else altogether, she's braced for impact and when he does hit her, it is indeed hard, since she can't see where to leap to. From underneath him there's a quiet groan, "I was." She lifts her head, one arm lifts and sweeps her hair off of her face and in the bit of light coming from above, it's clear they're both a mess. "How is it I keep ending up on the floor in the mud with you?" Then belatedly, "Are you okay?"
M'try tacks on to her question a very wry, "With all your clothes on." That's very likely the bit that keeps sticking out in his mind. Scuffed and bruised, there's a brief hiss when he adjusts so his weight rests on his palm-- apparently scraped on the way down-- but he mans up and rests on it anyway, the other one moving the hair back from her forehead carefully. "I've been better. Granted." He shifts a little, making a point of the whole 'pretty much on top of Vanissa' factor. "I've also been worse. Nothing's broken?"
There's a sort of gasped, "Touch!" from Nissa at that, his weight, after all, makes breathing difficult, It's a little bit better when he puts his palm to the floor. "Good. Other than crushed, I'm fine." At that shifting she gives him a push, her tone a little cool, her words slipping out before she can stop them, "Better when wearin' a crown, maybe?" She grimaces, tilts her head back to give the room a look, slightly upside down at that, "Nevermind. Where are we?"
"Sorry," M'try answers quickly, prying himself up. Thankfully, it's dark enough that Vanissa's not going to get the full array of owie expressions that cross his face during this process, finally with him scooting to sit, carefully finding the wall behind him with his uninjured palm. "Ah," when the crown comes up, and there'd be enlightenment showing if there was enough light. "I never did wear a crown, if it matters. --Someplace dark." To answer the 'where.' "Here," while he pushes up to his feet, sliding up the wall, looking for her hand with his.
Yay for not seeing his agony? Though if he were ever -seriously- hurt? One wonders if his face could survive it. And yay he can't see Nissa's face as she rebelliously mutters, "Forget it. None a my business anyway." She's wincing when he moves off of her. "Ha ha. Dark, funny." She's levering up on her elbows at his 'here' can dimly see his hand reaches for it reluctantly, avoiding looking at him as she gets to her feet, offers him a stiff, "Thanks."
"Yes." Funny. "Clever is my schtick, remember?" M'try doesn't move to keep Vanissa's hand once she's on her feet, where he normally might, though whether that's owing to her coldness or his scraped palm... "Nissa." Stilted. "Nenita doesn't want anything to do with me, I promise you, and she never has." He takes a ginger, careful, tentative step and hazards, "I think there are stairs to get out of here. Are you hurt anywhere?"
Taking a step away after regaining her feet, Nissa dry retort is, "How can I forget? We ain't had much other type of conversation." She's a step away from him, heading along the wall but away from the stairs and into the room, peering to see a bit more when he speaks. She turns back while running a hand distractedly through her hair, grimaces at the dirt she can feel on her fingertips. After a brief silence, "That obvious am I? I..." Embarrassment tinges her admission, "I ain't ever felt this way. Kinda..." She takes a wild guess, "jealous? I'm sorry." Yay he can't see her beet-red face! "Ain't hurt. But... shouldn't we look around a bit?"
"Unless you're seeing more than I am...?" M'try trails off, his feet on those stairs slowing, slowing, stopping with a breath that need not be seen to know it's a deep one. He turns back at that point, moving back down the step he just mounted to try and find the greenrider with his arms, to try to draw her to him at that point with a quiet, "You have no reason to be jealous, Nissa. Nenita and I would sooner smother each other with pillows than tangle in the sheets. But I'm flattered, if it's not terrible of me to admit it."
He was leaving without her? It's only when he speaks from up those stairs Nissa realizes he's gone up there and she's feeling her way back along the wall with a panicked, "Waaaaaiiit!" that echoes off the back recesses off the black vault behind them. His progress back down is met by a mad scramble up, but remember - she spent five weeks alone in a dark hole. She flails a bit, finds him or is found by him. Either way, she's easily drawn into his arms and clings. So who needs mojo? He can work with terror, right? He'll feel her heart pounding - it'll slow after a few moments. Meekly, "Okay, I, um. Thanks for telling me and no. No it ain't terrible." She's all chattery, probably leftover adrenalin, laughs a little, "I blame those pink letters."
By contrast, almost as usual, M'try remains calm. But, then, he didn't spend five weeks alone in the dark. "Relax," he answers to her jitters, holding her close until he's quite sure that Vanissa's heart has, in fact, regained a normal thump and not a rabbity patter. "I blame them fairly often myself, though probably for entirely different reasons. More specifically, I blame myself for forgetting they were there before I invited you to stay. Generally, I tend to think things through a little more conscientiously. Alas." The sound of his shrug is obvious even if it's a shallow thing and hard to see. This time, he will keep her hand before starting up again, fingers loosely twined. "I have this almost overpowering belief that, if I stop being clever, you're going to realize..." To answer her dry remark from before, albeit belatedly.
Vanissa calms, although it's a slow thing while her head is burrowed under his chin. His calm helps her quite a bit. "I'm glad you forgot." There's a smile in the words, "I- I thought is was awfully sweet. Don't feel badly?" As they start up, her fingers curl between his. A few steps along, she sways to bump her shoulder against his, "You're too careful, M'try. You need to learn to live in the moment more." His words nearly have her stumbling on the next step. She stops, tugs gently on his hand, asking quietly, "I'll realize what, M'try?"
"Yes? And fall into dark crevices and tumble down steps and land on top of beautiful women?" There's a pause, a moment where he cocks his head in a 'humn, perhaps not such a bad idea after all' way, and then M'try is ready to keep moving before he lets that pull on his hand do its job. Halfway up the tumbled, broken stairs, rather tattered himself, just starting to get enough light from the crack to see by-- "That you're going to come to your senses? That you're going to realize-- Nissa, you are so sweet, and lovely, and beautiful. I just keep feeling like I'm waiting for the axe to fall."
Vanissa laughs, "Well, as long as you don't kill them in the process?" She waits until he pauses and turns, taking the final few steps so she can be at eye level with him, tilts her head considering this with a confused knit to her brows. "What are ya sayin exactly, M'try? What?" Trying not to be offended, attempting to remain calm is a struggle, "That I'm too 'pretty' for the likes of you? Is that it?" She turns and almost starts up the stairs without him, but can't quite make herself let go of his hand. with her head turned away, "I'll realize what M'try?"
M'try takes a breath, organizing his thoughts, exactly what she accused him of being: too careful. Her response to what he was /trying/ to say does not go unnoticed, and it's for that reason that he's trying to explain himself more succinctly. "That you're not /in/ to me, Nissa. Look, I know that I'm sweet, and damn skippy I'm clever. I'm okay with that, and I meant what I said-- if there's never anything between us but friendship, I can be content with that. But I am so. Fucking. In. To. You." The guy's got a stack of books as tall as he is, and the best way he can think to put it is 'in to?' Yeah, he's so in over his head.
"M'try." Nissa's bewildered, flounders. Finally, "I ain't good with words. I told ya. I don't know how to..." a general handwave indicates the airspace between them. "I... sometimes I'm afraid to let you know me. /I/ don't know if I know me," she admits. "I never let any guy in before. It's scary." She reaches light fingers to touch his cheek, "I dunno what it is about ya, but ya draw me. I'm tryin' to face my fears." So it isn't her saying she's /in/ to him, but it's the best she can do right now. "I want-" Voices from above interrupt her and she peers up with a sigh, looks back to him. "Don't let fear make you a prisoner, hmm?"
"Draw," M'try repeats with a short laugh, the voices from above leading right into the way he bites his fingernails into his forehead before they sweep up and back, dragging through tangled, muddy hair (get a haircut, M'try, really). "I want-- to kill your brother. Alas, he's a lot bigger than I am. So." --It's after the shout that he draws on her hand, leading to the top of the steps.
M'try and Vanissa must be alive down there, 'cause M'try's voice comes out pretty clearly from the echoey space. "We're coming up, sir! In one piece, even."
You head up the stairs to the bowl
Mudslide, Fort Weyr(#1842RJs$)
The rain has done much to wash away the vast amount of mud that slid into the Bowl and down the mountainside, but in places, what used to be a wall of earth, is still knee-deep muck that needs shoveling. Where once dirt nestled, hard-packed along the rocky arms of the Weyr's curve, there's now a gaping open space that leads to a sharp, slick drop off that slopes away into the mountain range that holds the Weyr. A long swathe of mud continues to ooze its way downward as more of the stuff gets washed out of the Bowl by continuing rain.
Odd depressions in the mud speak of uneven surfaces beneath the mucky coating and along the northern side of the mudslide, the strange sight of a set of 'stairs' seemingly leading to nowhere rises up from the flotsam. On the southern side of the bowl wall, half an alcove hangs out high above, presumably the leftovers of a weyr that was drowned in the first mudslide and additional cracks in the wall hint at more to be found below the mud line.
"How many people are out here? You can't keep track of them all," Kaida says reasonably. She toes absently at a bit of stubborn mud caked onto the side of the huge rock, glancing over towards foreign Weyrwoman and friend both. "Well, there's still no screaming. Unless you think /she's/ going to start?" Pale eyes on Nenita for that question. "I don't think two more people disappearing will cause a fuss. Have you been to the Glass Fountain here before? They haven't got quite the range as your Sandbar, but they mix a good drink. Decent ales too." That would be a 'yes,' bad timing or not.
Notably, T'rev does not look pissed at anyone, just vaguely concerned as he walks the wall slowly calling out again. "Hear anything?" he asks Nenita as he crosses back her way and stands there looking at the crack in the wall with his head cocked to the side now too. "Think that's big enough for a person to go tumblin' through?"
If she's not annoyed about Ch'son losing Fort's ex-Weyrleader's sister and her sort-of-friend down a muddy hole when he wasn't paying attention to anything other than pissing off B'kaiv and talking to Kaida, then she'll be mad about the skipping out on work to drink. But right now she doesn't seem too focused on what's going on over there, her back turned, attention elsewhere. So he'll probably be able to escape while she's not looking. When M'try's voice comes up through the hole, she nods her head and lets out a sigh. "Over this way." She waves him over, "And I don't know. But I'm not squeezing my ass through there."
"T'rev?" It's Nissa's voice calling after M'try calls out. As they near the top of the stairs, crunching and tumbling sounds of small rocks can be head. "Might need a hand up - the ground sorta collapsed under us."
"Oh good, as I don't think we particularly /need/ your ass down here, Weyrwoman. Unless you intend to use it to lower a rope or a step-ladder? Which would be clever, admittedly, but just a hand might also help." M'try, having fallen down a hole, now banged and scraped, still has to get in his digs at the damned Istan where he can. "I can boost Vanissa up if someone can help from the top, please?" he adds, glancing to the greenrider with a questioning lift of his brow; works for her?
"Aye, I have been t' the Glass Fountain before. Back long," though maybe not /that/ long since he's only been a dragonrider for a few turns, "before I was Weyrleader. Remember it fondly, though, and I thnk it sounds great." Not like Ch'son makes a lot of time to hang out at Fort, after all. He's got to pounce these chances when they come up. He does take his shovel with him and before they head too far, drops it off with Taineth for safe-keeping.
Kaida leaves her shovel where it is, standing skinny sentinel by that rock, pulling her gloves off and tucking them into her belt as she accompanies Ch'son away from the work site.
Vanissa coughs back a laugh at M'try's phrasing and nods, eyes dancing. "Hand mine up instead why don't you then?" And she'll wait to see just how he plans to do that, arching her back, which causes her to wince ( Ow, sore!) when she peers up at the opening with one hand held to keep falling debris from getting in her eyes.
T'rev catches the sound of voices and moves over to provide the requested assistance. "Sure, can do," T'rev calls back to the pair and grins over at Nenita. "I don't think your ass would have problems fitting, but I'd rather have the view out here," he quips, then leans against the wall one-shouldered, peering down below and reaches in to offer that hand up from the outside.
"How about my ass stays out here then. We get Vanissa safely on the surface and then I seal up this rock and leave you down there?" Nenita calls down to M'try, sounding cheerful. She casts an amused smirk in T'rev's direction before she leans closer to the crack. "I swear, I'll send food down every once in awhile. If I can remember." With her free hand, she braces herself against the wall and then shoves the glows in above T'rev, aiding in the illumination.
M'try is really not going to be awesome at lifting Vanissa out anyway, but doing it with the peanut gallery up there 'helping' him? "You'd-- oof-- miss me, Nenita, admit it," he answers back toward the outside world, getting way more groping in at this exact moment than he has in, uh, a long time. Alas, it's just to get the greenrider clear and then start reaching up in turn, ready for a little help for himself in turn.
"On second thought, I'll stay here with you," Nissa grins to M'try upon hearing Nenita, ducking as a shower of dirt rains in from above. "We'd have plenty of time and you could teach me how to draw. Or something." Yeah, M'try, she's in no position to protest or enjoy where your hands happen to be. Alas for her as well. Emerging from the pit, it's clear she's been banged around. Bruised, dirt-smudged, but hey! Still cheerful. "Hi guys! You would not believe what we found down there. Um, cos we never got around to looking at it." Grin.
"C'mon up Niss," T'rev encourages, hauling his sister up. "Yeah? Ha. Well we can get ropes and stuff and lights and check it out proper another day. Like maybe tomorrow," the wingleader says with a laugh and leans back into the 'chasm' to help M'try. "Thanks Nenita," he tells Ista's Weyrwoman as well as she sticks the glows in over his head.
"Miss you?" Nenita asks aloud, like she really has to think about it. "I don't know. Why, I could come visit you here whenever I wanted!" Once Vanissa is coming up through the hole, she leans away so that the greenrider has a clear path through. Without another full body in the way there should be more light. She places the glows carefully on the ground and leans her hand in to snag M'try around the wrist. "Though it might be nice to see your face when you're insulting me, that I'll admit to." Unless of course T'rev is doing that too and there's no room. In which case her arm comes back and she shoots Vanissa a smile, "Yeah, seems real dark. And ah, if you'll all excuse me? It's about time I checked on Safriath. Try not to fall in anymore holes." Cool as a cucumber, a muddy cucumber, she trots back off across the bowl to the mud hauling dragons.
M'try, seriously, while he's getting helped on up to his feet; "You have the most amazing sense of timing, sir. Just. Unbelievable." The comment may have to exist apropos of nothing for a while, since he's dusting himself off now, finding scrapes and bruises pretty much all over his hands and arms in the process. "I think I'm going to see if Isandre is feeling like torturing me for a while, will you excuse me?" There's a glance back to the greenrider to invite her along for the ride, if she's feeling similarly banged and beaten.
Dragon> To Safriath, Mohraith projects, << COME BACK SOME TIME!!! >>
And when Nissa accepts the hand up, she barely manages to bite back a groan and a wince. "He landed on top of me and we went from there." She tells both T'rev and Nenita with a smirk, lifts a hand to give the departing weyrwoman a salute. She'll just leave them to draw their own conclusions on /that/. "I need a bath and numbweed and at this point, I'd accept some fellis if Isandre would push some of that off on me." She'll wait for M'try to emerge though, before setting off because from the looks of her, she could use a shoulder to lean on getting there.
"Did he now?" T'rev inquires of his sister rather chipperly and looks between green and brownrider with the cutest little 'aha' grin. "I've got a chest o' papers and some shovels to tidy up, but I'll be along in a bit t'make sure y'all are ... still comin' together just fine," he says /totally/ deadpan. A wave is sent off after Nenita and it's Mecaith who passes along more formal thanks as T'rev goes about his self-appointed tasks then heads across the bowl with the old box full of papers to leave to the tender mercies of the archivist harper in records with an update passed along draconically to the Weyrleaders.